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Talk:Book 11/@comment-2601:988:C202:2F40:D52A:F0E6:8662:26B9-20171104163056
Here is a free fanfic for u guys... Please do not steal it. A chakram whistled toward Thorn from out of nowhere. Qibli leapt toward her podium and tackled the queen, interrupting her speech about inter-tribe safety and toleration. Thorn realized what was happening and hunkered down under Qibli’s wings. The chakram embedded itself in Qibli’s long, graceful tail, letting free a spurt of bright crimson blood. Thorn poked her head out from under Qibli, hissing in sympathy of his wounded tail. Qibli released the queen of the Sandwings. His venomous barb hung at a strange angle from the end of his tail. He curled around instantly, yanking free the circular weapon stuck in his wedge-shaped scales. Amid the shrieks of dragons clustered around the stage, a single tail whipped around a corner. “There!” Thorn had spotted the fleeing assassin nearly the same time he had. She leaped into the air, beating back concerned citizens with her wiry tan wings. Nearly before Qibli had steeled himself for flight, Thorn was speeding after her attacker. Qibli folded back his wings, choosing to spare his tail from flight. He launched himself after the queen on foot, tucking his tail in close. Speeding along on the hard-packed sand gave Qibli an advantage: less traffic. Most dragons had thrown themselves aloft in order to see their queen, and to catch a glimpse of the foolish dragon who had attacked her. Qibli slithered around a corner to see three chakrams suspended in the air, hurtling toward his queen. Thorn herself didn’t appear to have seen the metal discs flying toward her. She peered into the windows of the houses around her, and into the narrow alleys between the buildings. “No!” he shrieked, springing into the hot desert air. His brain whirled. Chakrams were deadly, yes, no way to stop one if you were the target. Only if you were the target... A desperate plan shoved to the front of Qibli’s mind. He slapped the underside of the chakram with his palm. The weapon spun up, and clattered harmlessly against an adobe building. Thorn somehow ducked, feinting sideways away from the second missile. Her tail whipped out, incredibly, and caught the chakram with the razor sharp point of her tail barb. The third disc ricocheted off a metal lamp-post and landed between Qibli’s talons. Thorn spun her chakram by the point of her tail, whipping back and forth hypnotically. Qibli snatched up the chakram in front of him. Thorn raised her head to try and sniff out the assassin. She exhaled menacingly, spearing the alley in front of her with her black gaze. Her tail flicked with blinding speed, hurling the chakram into the alley. A hoarse yowl told him she’d met her mark. Qibli tossed Thorn his chakram and lunged into the alley. He hooked his claws into the hiding dragon’s neck, dragging her out into the sunlight. This assassin was smart. She’d chosen an alley where she could not be seen from the air. The shadows covered her. Thorn stalked around her captured prey slowly, drinking in the details. Qibli grabbed the assassin’s tail barb, poising his razor sharp claws above the hinge where it connected to the base. “Qibli, take a look at her. I’ll get her tail.” Thorn beckoned to him, slinking back to where he currently stood. He released the tail and watched Thorn angle her weapon neatly on the hinge of the tail barb. One stroke and this particular Sandwing would be venomless. Not a trade most Sandwings would trade for a mere bounty, even if this bounty was the queen. Qibli stared at the dragon’s face. Female Sandwing, middle aged, face clawed up and swollen, but with a familiar look. Qibli saw it in the eyes. Vicious purple-black orbs, filled with hate. “Cobra,” he hissed, inhaling. “WHY. How many times must I save my queen from you, pathetic, cowardly, beetle-brains?” “She’s not queen,” Cobra insisted. “Even I could be a better queen than she could.” “What would give you the right to be queen, anyway?” Thorn called. “Skill,” snarled Cobra. “I could kill any challengers in a heartbeat, which is more than you can boast. You still need my witless son to protect you.” Thorn raised her neck gallantly. “I cherish Qibli. He’s like the son I never had, and the fact that he saves my life several times a week, well, that adds to his charm. Now, shut up, or you drink a concoction of your own venom.” Qibli flicked his tongue over his teeth. Funny, that Thorn, praising him one moment and threatening her enemies the next. Useful talent. “Hilarious you should mention it,” drawled Cobra. “I’ve experimented with my venom before. It doesn’t do anything to the scales, but mixed with dragonbite viper venom… Rainwing venom feels like a lovely hot bath in comparison.” She held out her front talons. The scales there bubbled, warped and twisted. “I splashed some on my scales, once. Never again.” She stilled herself, smiling serenely, long enough for Qibli to become extremely suspicious. It wasn’t like his mother to sit still while under guard. She had to have something planned. Qibli leaned forward and sniffed slightly. A sour, acidic smell curled into his nostrils, and his face seized up in protest. He fell back, crying out, his eyes watering. Coriander, but enhanced somehow. Mother’s favored snack before an assassination mission. He should have smelled it coming, but he was glad he hadn’t done so before now. At the same time, Cobra whipped her tail out from under Thorn’s chakram, grazing off a layer of scales. Cobra hissed but ignored the sticky blood seeping from her tail. In two quick strikes, Cobra slashed her scarred talons across Thorn’s chest. Thorn shrieked, lashing out with her chakram, leaving it buried deep in Cobra’s foreleg. Cobra’s lips curled up over her teeth, smiling in a leer that was terrifying and slightly insane. She lashed her tail back around Thorn, tripping her. Thorn fell with a thud, and Cobra leaped on top of her. She kept one foot carefully on Thorn’s tail barb. “When I kill you, who will be queen?” Cobra shouted. “Your stunted daughter? Not when I’m through with her!” “Sunny!” Thorn growled. She seemed to be having trouble breathing. Not surprising, with the murderous behemoth on her chest. “You touch her and I-” Cobra laughed delightedly. “Oh, no, I won’t touch her! My other dragonet will!” She threw back her head and screamed with laughter. “SIROCCO!” Sirocco leaped into the alley, dragging a golden bundle behind her. Qibli’s eyes finally cleared. He staggered toward his sisters, familial and adopted. Sirocco hissed flames at him, but Qibli leaped back and clapped his wings behind the fire. The white embers shot back at Sirocco, singing her scales. Qibli took the opportunity to rush over and grab Sunny. If anything happened, Thorn would know Sunny was safe. Sirocco recovered from his fire blast. She stamped a foot down where Sunny was a few seconds before, but upon feeling nothing, turned and stabbed her tail down at the beautiful limp form of Thorn’s daughter. Qibli threw himself in the way, and Sirocco’s barb just barely touched the small of his back. From underneath Cobra, Thorn choked out, “Qibli, go! Take her! Keep her safe! Then come save me!” This message earned Thorn a vicious thump across the face with a wing. Thorn’s head lolled, but her eyes stayed open. Qibli gathered Sunny close to him, her lovely yellow-gold wings tangling with his talons. He climbed the air as would a fleeing sparrow, while his sister swiped furiously for his fleeing tail. Her claws grazed his mostly disconnected barb, which he had almost forgotten about. He’d have to see a healer. Once properly high enough, he readjusted his grip on Sunny. Her head had a red mark in between the horns… probably a hard blow that had knocked her out. Sunny’s tail dangled below her. Qibli twined his tail around hers, never an easy task while flying. It was reassuring to feel warm scales next to his own. Sunny’s eyes fluttered open. She focused first on Qibli, then seemed to notice they were flying. “Hey, what? Why are you carrying me?” Sunny dropped out of Qibli’s claws and tried to spread her wings. She couldn’t, and plummeted like a felled moon. Qibli yelled and swooped beneath her. Sunny was small, but then again, so was Qibli. Qibli braced himself, and ducked under Sunny. She fell again, looking bewildered and scared. “Flip over!” Qibli shouted. Sunny struggled to do this, but when she had, Qibli carefully lowered his altitude. “Grab on,” he told her, when he was right above her. She did so, latching her talons over his shoulders. She folded up her wings, reducing drag as much as possible. “We’re heading to the Den,” Qibli said to Sunny. She had her eyes closed, and was breathing shallowly. “Qibli, what’s wrong with me?” she blurted. “I can’t move my wings that much, my memory is blurry, and I feel… weird. Like I hate everyone.” “You- hate everyone?” Qibli was so shocked by this absurd notion that his wings almost stalled. “Yeah, but I know that’s crazy. I don’t hate you… or Mother. Everyone else.. I just hate them.” She lovingly tapped her head against his neck. “About the blurry, and the wings, and, well, everything, I think my mother poisoned you. She can make potions that mess with the nerves, and the memory. Both should wear off, but… don’t fly.” “What were they doing to Mother? Who were they?” Sunny sounded close to tears, and when he looked down, crystal liquid puddled by Sunny’s big green eyes. He sighed, already hating his answer. ‘My mother. And sister. Cobra, the big one, I think she’s insane.” His voice frayed, remembering the times he’d been beaten for some trivial accident or mistake. “My sister is the claws and tail. Mother is the potions and brains. She doesn’t want royalty, and the Sandwings would never accept her anyway. She wants chaos, anarchy. It would be most profitable for her, because everyone would have enemies that need killing. The Sand Kingdom couldn’t withstand that!” He roared at the air in frustration. “That’s stupid! Doesn’t she care about other dragons?” Sunny growled, a most unusual display of anger. ‘She doesn’t. Not at all,” Qibli said truthfully. He flew in silence for a few moments. Each passing second was a worrying one. Was Thorn dead? Was she being tortured? What horror had the psychopathic mind of Cobra cooked up for her queen? Qibli couldn’t take it! The healers lived halfway across town, for moons’ sake. Why? He landed clumsily behind the building, and Sunny slumped against the ground. He helped her up, and slung one of her wings over his shoulder. As they rounded the corner, Qibli called out, “Aster! Help, now!” A slim Sandwing with golden scales freckled over her wings and face emerged from the hut. “Qibli!” she cried, “What happened to you? And Sunny! What’s wrong?” Her trained eyes saw his injured tail barb collecting sand on the ground, and Sunny’s drooping wings and unfocused expression. “Poison,” Qibli rasped. “My tail…” He grew faint, and his vision darkened. He saw Sunny supporting him, and Aster pulling him inside the healing facility. Qibli woke to a peaceful warmth, and a pleasant smell. He opened his eyes. A torch glowed cheerfully in a sconce. A bundle of aster flowers bloomed in the window. Aster herself stood at a desk, fiddling with vials of liquid and medicinal herbs. The warmth came from Sunny, who was curled beside him. She shivered, pulling her tail close around herself. That reminded him. Qibli lifted his tail to find a bandaged lump. His heart fell. No tail barb… a venomless dragon in the Scorpion Den was roast prey. Aster noticed his expression. “It’s not gone. I just had to bandage that cut… and I needed a lot of bandages. You can’t use it for a week or two, though. I’m so sorry.” Qibli suddenly remembered about Thorn. “Oh, moonfire! I forgot! Sunny, we have to go!” The little hybrid rose sleepily. “Coming…” She stepped outside and spread her wings. Qibli turned to the gold-dappled dragon. “Thank you so much, Aster. I owe you a drink.” “Anytime,” replied the healer, stepping in for a quick hug. Sunny and Qibli launched themselves skyward. Sunny somehow seemed to have more energy than he did, or maybe normal Sunny was back. He banked right, to a forge. The heavyset blacksmith, Lava, had his back turned from the rack of finished tail-swords. Qibli quietly sneaked up to the rack and snatched the smallest one. He flapped to catch up to Sunny. “Why’d you do that?” Sunny demanded. “So you can fight,” Qibli said grimly. Sunny huffed, looking nervous. “You return it when we’re done.” Qibli nodded, and froze. He remembered where he’d fought Sirocco and Cobra, but he needed to sneak up on them. He dropped silently to a building just out of earshot. “Turn around,” he whispered fiercely to Sunny. She complied. Qibli attached the tail-sword the Sunny’s barbless tail. The leather straps used to anchor it fastened securely with buckles. The weapon was a scarily sharp scimitar, iron with bronze inlaid in the hilt. The blade curved over, not unlike Cobra’s preferred model of chakram. Sunny whipped her tail around experimentally. “Why-” she began curiously. “Do we make these?” he finished. “Black market, or really desperate dragons with no tail barb.” She shrugged. “Fair enough.” Qibli turned and dove over the side of the building. He landed softly, and looked up. “Heads up,” called Sunny quietly, a second before she landed on top of him. “Oof,” he complained, shrugging her off. A scream of maniacal laughter spiraled from a few alleys away. Qibli’s ears pricked up. He edged closer to the sound, and Sunny followed him stealthily. “Did your adopted son abandon you for good this time, Thorn? I’m not surprised. No one would stick by you. Not even Sunny, whom I am sure is having a lovely time in the insane asylum.” More snide laughter. It boiled through Qibli’s blood, destroying his sense of reason. He burst into the alley, his pulse booming in his brain. “Qibli!” Thorn called out in relief. A crack echoed around them. Thorn fell unconscious, Cobra’s tail slithering back from the queen’s head. “NO!” Qibli screamed, surging forward. Sirocco lunged toward him in a full-torso block, throwing him back against the pebbles. They tussled with each other, Qibli slamming his tail like a club at his sister. Sirocco bit him on the wing, hard, drawing blood and effectively rendering that wing useless for a few moments. Cobra, meanwhile, crouched over Thorn’s open mouth, precariously clutching an open vial of green liquid above her, a crooked smile lighting her features. “Qibli,” she sang. “Wouldn’t it be awful if my talons- slipped” she jiggled the vial, threatening to spill it, “- this potion right into her mouth? It’s quite a nasty, volatile concoction, you know. Are you sure you don’t want to see what it does?” Qibli struggled toward his mother. Where was Sunny? Was she purposely not fighting, or had she gone for help, or what? “No,” he gasped. “Mother, please…” Sirocco struck. She jumped on his back, pinning his wings to his sides. His legs collapsed beneath him. Cobra cackled madly, and tipped the potion drop by agonizing drop, right into Thorn’s mouth. Thorn bucked, breathing a weak spurt of fire in her unconsciousness. Qibli burst into tears, and his sister let him up. He crawled to Thorn’s side, his tears wetting the sand underneath him. “Aww, isn’t that adorable, my son crying over this dragon who never loved him,” Cobra’s taunts waved through his ears, but he didn’t really register them. Thorn was dead. The queen. How had he failed her? Sirocco looked mildly sick, as though watching a dragon’s insides boil wasn’t nearly as entertaining as she thought it would be. Cobra looked enthralled. Qibli wanted to claw the gloating expressing right off his mother’s face, and he didn’t care if he clawed off some scales along with it. Thorn’s chest suddenly heaved, throwing off small rubies of blood. Her jaw unhinged and she sucked in a huge breath. Qibli almost collapsed with joy, and Cobra looked cheated. “Impossible!” She screeched. “That was the exact formula… she told me!” “Maybe it was the right formula,” said a new voice. “But that wasn’t the potion.” Sunny leapt down beside Qibli, laying a reassuring wing over his back. He stood, leaning into her gratefully. She reached into a pouch around her neck, drawing out a vial that looked similar to the first, except that this liquid glowed eerily. “Apple juice,” Sunny said triumphantly. Qibli picked up Sunny and spun her in a circle, flinging his wings around her. “You genius sunbeam! Genius, genius!” “No!” Cobra shrieked. “I am the genius!” She grabbed for her potion, but Sunny kept it well out of reach. Thorn rose unsteadily. “Qibli… Sunny… I knew you’d come back!” Qibli grinned, so happy his queen was alive. “Absolutely not,” snarled Cobra. “YOU ALL WILL DIE!” She slashed her tail across Thorn’s throat, but Thorn caught it by the barb. Thorn stared Cobra right in the eye, and snapped off the point. Cobra screamed, but still advanced on Qibli and Sunny. Sunny shoved the poison into Qibli’s talons, and rushed Cobra. She whirled with more speed than Qibli would have thought of her, and the iron blade on her tail sliced into Cobra’s leg. Cobra slashed at Sunny, but Sunny’s blade bit into her neck like an axe. Cobra fell, sobbing, but her tail thrashed weakly. Sunny glared at her with menace in her eyes, and raised her tail over Cobra’s. She brought down the blade, chopping into Cobra’s tail. Cobra fell still. Thorn snatched the potion from Qibli. She held it next to Cobra’s head. “Why did you say Sunny was in the insane asylum? Why aren’t there dragons crawling all over this square? And who is this ‘she’?” Cobra, writhing, said, “Given time the potion I fed her would have scrambled all the brains she has. And… my patron. She paid certain dragons to control the crowd. She wants to be queen.” “Why?” “No!” shouted Cobra, flipping upright. “I will die instead of giving you information on my queen!” She flicked the potion out of Thorn’s claws, biting it out of the air. She immediately screamed as though there were snakes biting her eyes and dragons clawing her wings. The skin on the outside of her throat warped, crawling before Qibli’s eyes. It was absolutely disgusting. And absolutely satisfying. She fell back, her wings beating the dusty ground. Her eyes started to lose their malice. “I would die…” she choked. Thorn snarled, stabbing her talons through Cobra’s chest, twisting them around as if she were picking a lock. Cobra’s eyes bulged, and closed. Sirocco screamed and fled. Thorn turned to Qibli. She broke down, suddenly sobbing. “I’m so sorry…” Qibli wrapped his wings around her, and included Sunny in their embrace. Sunny rested her head next to Qibli’s and said, “We need to find the ‘she.’” Qibli extricated himself from his family’s wings. “Thorn-” “I know,” she sniffled, glancing distastefully at the bloodied body on the dusty ground. “I’ll ask Smolder if he knows anything.” She leapt off, her huge gold-tan wings beating the air. Smolder, the Sandwing prince, Thorn’s advisor. Qibli suspected that the two liked each other, but he’d never asked. Something about being attacked that staved his curiosity. He turned to Sunny. “We should check the school, see if maybe Queen Glory or Starflight know anything about this raving Sandwing.” She nodded, swarming up the side of an adobe box. The tail-sword swung from her golden tail, reflecting the light evilly. She sprang off the building, her bundled wings catching the air and singing it sweet lullabyes. Sunny wheeled over the city’s huge wall, aiming northwest. The tunnels… of course Sunny did not intend to fly all the way to Jade Mountain from here! Dragons thought she was dumb, but really, she was not. A sudden glint from her tail reminded Qibli of something. “Hey,” he said. “Weren’t you going to return that?” Sunny turned and grinned mischievously. “I like it… and I don’t think your blacksmith will take kindly to me admitting you stole this. Things go missing all the time in the Scorpion Den, yes?” She absentmindedly traced a claw over the curved edge of the scimitar. Qibli nodded thoughtfully. The desert seemed to wrap his mind up in layers of pleasure and sweeten them, slowly, until he could not live without them. The dunes cast long shadows on the sand. Quartz, marble, gold, onyx. All stones made up this medley of particles. Qibli wondered if all Sandwings loved the desert this much, or because he’d never been able to love something in such a free way. He ducked down and sifted his talons through a high peak. Sand took off in the wind like the wings of a million birds, or like an atomized bar of gold. Hours of flying left him energized. The sun soaked into his bones, the heat hardened his scales, and the glorious pure sky cleared his mind. The semicircle of cacti that marked the entrance of the sub-mountain tunnel appeared on the edge of the horizon. Their colour solidified from a blurry grey to a rich green, one of the few spots of life in this barren, beautiful plain. Sunny banked down, folding up her wings. She landed gracefully on the dune, her claws sending up dramatic little sprays of sand like drops of water falling. She observed the cacti for a moment, then smashed her tail down on a patch of sand. The sand splashed away, revealing a small hole. Qibli landed, too, a swiped away the sand from the entrance of the tunnel. Sunny thanked him wordlessly with a smile and dove into the tunnel. Qibli moved to follow her, but a small scrabbling noise pricked up his ears. His head snapped back to catch a glimpse of whatever had made the sound. He saw nothing, but he thought a little patch of sand to his right had moved, and it had odd red smears on it, like rust mingling in the grains. He shook off the crawling feeling of being watched and slithered into the tunnel. Moons, how he hated this tunnel… a free passage straight to the Sand Kingdom. And right near the palace, to. What cleverclaws had come up with this idea? Stop it, he scolded himself. Sunny’s father made the tunnels. He was just obeying his queen. I would have done the same thing. He rounded the corner, following the melodic tapping of Sunny’s claws. The warm, wet air of the rainforest smacked him in the snout like a wet cloth. He smelled the fruity scents of the trees and flowers, and the heavier smells of the fire-breathing Nightwings. Sunny leaped onto a tree trunk and climbed it for a few steps, then pushed off into the thick air. Nice trick. Qibli tried it himself, and shoved off the tree way too hard. He overshot Sunny’s pace, which was good and bad, as a tranquilizer dart aimed for his neck missed and thunked into Sunny’s instead. She cried out, mumbling, “I forgot about the darts…” She wobbled, and Qibli barely had time to catch her. “Wait,” he yelled desperately. “Don’t shoot! We need to see the queen!” Three Rainwings flickered into visibility on a thick branch. Two were unfamiliar, but Qibli knew the third. “Kinkajou!” he smiled. “How do you know- oh, Qibli! Why are you here?” The little friend of Glory’s beamed, her scales turning rose pink and a soft gold. “Hold it, Kinkajou,” snarled another. Most odd. Qibli had never met a snarly Rainwing. “Do you know them?” “Shut it, Bromeliad.” Kinkajou gestured to the orange and lavender dragon perched to her right. “Of course I know them! He’s in my winglet at school, and the one you knocked out is Sunny, the founder of the school.” “We should get her in a net,” suggested the pretty turquoise and amber Rainwing next to her. She turned to Qibli. “I’m Orchid, and your wings look sore.” Qibli hadn’t noticed it, but his wings still felt trampled from the fights earlier, the bite on his wing leaked blood. He nodded. He held out Sunny to the Rainwings, trying to ignore his shaking arms. Orchid unfurled a net in which Qibli gently laid Sunny. The three Rainwings each grabbed a section of the circular vine-woven net, flying easily together. Qibli flew after them, but the three colourful dragons in front of seemed to swim through the air rather than fly. It hurt him to keep up, and he knew he had to just grit his teeth and bear it. Thorn needed him. All of the Sandwings needed him. Sunny needed him. Kinkajou rotated the net so she was flying right next to Qibli. “So,” she grinned, “What brings you to the lovely Rain and Night Kingdom? Cause I know it wasn’t the black dragons, even if Moon is among them.” Qibli frowned. Kinkajou certainly knew how to twist his horns the wrong way. “I’m not here for Moon, though I would like to see her again. Someone attacked Thorn, and before the assassin died, she said someone had paid her to do it. A female. She also said that this patron was pulling the strings in order to become queen. I think she’s a Sandwing, but I could be wrong. I need to ask Glory and Starflight if they know anything.” Kinkajou nodded. “I can take you to her, but Bromeliad and Orchid will need to put Sunny in the healers’ treehouse.” She released her side of the net, and the other two dragons shifted, compensating for the loss of one set of wings. She sailed under him, joyfully hooting. “Kinkajou,” Qibli called. “Why are you on border patrol? I thought you hated that job.” Sho pouted. “I do. But Glory thought I could use the blowpipe practice. I was the one who was shooting at you. I didn’t recognize you at first, but I did eventually, so now things are super-awesome!” Hmm. Kinkajou usually referred to Queen Glory as Her Highness or ‘the queen.’ She must have been really agitated to call her simply ‘Glory.’ Kinkajou swooped ahead, pointing to a flowery, viney, covered platform. “It’s the palace,” she explained. “I know it doesn’t look like much, but it’s the sturdiest thing the Rainwings ever built besides the hatchery.” She landed absolutely beautifully, her looped tail arcing smoothly across the soft wood. Her talons shifted to match the wide, pale blue blooms pillowed around the edges of the platform. “Queen,” she called. Glory poked her head out from behind a curtain of moon-coloured petals. Her green eyes were bloodshot and weary, and her scales were a dismal grey splashed with crimson and lava orange. Qibli wondered when she’d last had sleep. He knew Glory had a lot to deal with, with the Nightwings under her rule, and assassination attempts every hour… the young Rainwing queen was an even more sought-after target than Thorn, and that was saying something. “Yes, Kinkajou? Oh, hello, Qibli. Come in.” Queen Glory swept open a wing in a way that seemed almost grand, except that her exhausted demeanor ruined the effect. Qibli entered the room, which had a filtered green quality to it. Light sifted down through the ceiling, and windows let in a nice breeze. Glory stumbled in after them. Another dragon lay curled in the far reaches of the dome. He was a glossy black Nightwing, with starry freckles under his wings. His face curved handsomely. He raised his head, and Qibli recoiled. This Nightwing looked more sleep-deprived than Glory. A jagged cut flared along the side of his neck. “Deathbringer,” Glory yawned. The Nightwing rushed to Glory’s side and opened his wings to her. She accepted gratefully, leaning into him. Deathbringer watched Qibli warily. “I remember you,” he told Qibli. “Qibli, yes? Queen Thorn’s advisor?” Deathbringer blinked slowly. “Yes, sir. Queen Thorn was almost assassinated today, and I need information.” Deathbringer looked more alert now. “How?” “Same old. The assassin was... my mother. Cobra. She killed herself in the end, but she said she had a patron who wanted to be queen. Maybe a really old Sandwing with conformist ideas of royalty?” Glory yawned. “I think there was a Sandwing… Jerboa? She was an animus… but that was in Darkstalker’s time. But Moon said she had a daughter… and the daughter is still alive. Maybe her? Turtle told me she appeared in the throne room of the old Night Kingdom when Darkstalker summoned all the animi on the continent. Maybe she’s an animus but is hiding it.” “Starflight can give you a chronological list of dates of this Sandwing’s life,” added Deathbringer. Kinkajou glanced at her queen. “Glory, you need to sleep. Remember Chameleon?” Qibli shuddered. He hated remembering the stunted Rainwing with the scroll that could destroy Pyrrhia. Glory shifted and murmured, “Yes, I suppose I’ll just…” She staggered to a pile of leaves in the end of the dome. She lay down, and was asleep before she hit the pile. Deathbringer curled up next to her, putting a protective wing over her. Glory turned black as pitch, or as black as the darkest part of the night. Her dark scales blended with Deathbringer’s, so it was difficult to tell that there were two dragons curled on the floor of the palace. Kinkajou nudged Qibli in the ribs. “Black is stressed. I haven’t seen her sleep in three days, and Deathbringer nearly got killed defending her. It almost makes me trust him,” she finished admiringly. “If I’d known it would be that easy to get her to sleep, I would have done that days ago,” Kinkajou muttered to herself, gathering the breezes in bundles under her wings. Soaring high, Qibli could see the healers’ house with the red berries on its roof. “Sunny,” he blurted. Kinkajou pivoted. “What?” “Sunny’s probably awake. I need her help, and I have to keep her safe.” “Aww, how adorable,” Kinkajou bodychecked him, not teasingly. Qibli tensed. Sunny was awake, and happy. “The rainforest,” she cried, “Oh, I love it here! All the fruits, and my friends, and- KINKAJOU!” The little Sandwing barreled out of the treehouse, slamming into Kinkajou. They laughed delightedly, clapping wings and dancing. When they had finally calmed down, Qibli observed, “That was… festive.” Sunny’s happy expression drained like someone had pulled its plug. “Did you tell her?” she asked Qibli. “About Thorn?” He nodded. “And Glory and Deathbringer. Deathbringer says Starflight can help, Glory says Jerboa’s daughter might be the culprit. They’re both exhausted, neither looks as though they’ve slept in days.” “We need to get to Jade Mountain!” Sunny yelled. “Mother’s life is depending on it!” She took off. Kinkajou waved an enthusiastic goodbye. QIbli shot Kinkajou a grateful thank-you in his smile, leaping after Sunny. Whether most dragons realized it or not, the golden hybrid was fast when she was determined. She rose high above the jungle, slipping into a jetstream where the wind could effortlessly shunt her to the fang-shaped Jade Mountain. After nearly two hours of flying, the mountain rose into view. Red, orange, and gold forms of Skywings danced around the stone, and Qibli thought he could see the incendiary body of Peril. “Home,” Sunny and Qibli breathed simultaneously, smiling. Qibli dove, curling his wings to send him into a spiral. Trails of cloud in the air leapt from the tips of his wings. He saw a familiar ebony shape sitting in the entrance cave, an onyx statue brought to life. He leveled out to land smoothly beside the pretty female Nightwing. She lurched upright with a startled noise. “Qibli! Hi- Oh, I missed you!” Moon stood spreading her wings happily. Her wings were like slices of jet midnight flecked with diamond star scales, sucking him deeper into the void. Her eyes were as bright as ever, brimming with knowledge. Qibli was surprised at the wrench of soul-stabbing happiness he felt. How could he have left this lovely dragon, even for a moment? He leaned into a hug, fitting his sand-hued wings over her dark ones. Her scales were cool, the dark side of the moon to his baking sun. How could I have left her, even for the queen? She pulled back, a smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. The silver scales next to her eyes looked like moondust in a tear, and the tear looked ready to fall. Qibli reached out and touched one lightly. Moon inhaled raggedly. “Qibli... You have no idea what it’s like for Queen Glory. She almost dies, like, all the time! Last I saw her, she could barely sleep because someone was trying to kill her. Deathbringer was awake around the clock, trying to save her! This can’t go on, or my queen will die of something other than the assassination attempts.” “I know, Moon. I know. I was just there, with Sunny. Deathbringer has this huge cut, on his neck, see? And he can’t even get it treated because he can’t leave Glory. They haven’t slept in days.” Moon wiped her eyes. “I was there this morning. Glory should have this awful burn on her chest, Obsidian nearly got her.” Qibli decided something on the spot. “Tell you what. After I’m done with this… assignment, we can go and try to calm the Nightwings. If all else fails, I’ll guard her myself. We should bring Pronghorn, he’s good with healing.” Moon stepped back and waved to Sunny, who flicked her tail in greeting as she swooped into the teachers’ cave entrance. “Sounds great, Qibli.” She seemed to realize something. “Why are you here? I thought you had to guard Thorn.” Qibli gestured for her to follow him into the mountain. “Prey cave, I’m starved. Well, o watcher of moons, it is the business of guarding Thorn that has started this whole mess.” He plucked off the pouch containing his mind-reader-blocking stone, skyfire. Moon saw the entire events of the day, and his opinions, guesses, and inferences on the subject, all within a few seconds of reading his thoughts. He carefully tied the pouch back on his left front ankle. “Qibli, that’s awful! Your mother? I thought she’d been put away! And I bet you’re right about Jerboa the second, it’s completely plausible she has hidden animus magic. And about Starflight, too. He could unravel this is a second.” “No way,” Starflight told them, his blank gaze anchored on all wall behind them. “Absolutely not. There’s no evidence.” “Of course there is!” objected Qibli. He chewed the remainder of his cow and swallowed. “Turtle saw her in the throne room, and when Moon and I met her, she changed the subject about her long life very quickly. She has to be an animus.” “No one has any proof of these events.” Starflight quiet voice strode toward annoyed. “And I’ll thank you not to chomp your greasy cow in my library, Qibli.” Qibli huffed and turned away. Moon swished her tail, nearly tipping over a stack of scrolls. Starflight heard it happen and squawked, knocking over the pile in his haste to prevent Moon doing so. The duo tromped into the hall. “Well, poo him,” vented Moon angrily. “I know your brain better than-” she cut off warily. “Sorry.” “It’s fine,” Qibli replied absently. His mind whirled over possibilities. “If Jerboa II is an animus, couldn’t she just enchant something to kill Thorn? Or make all the Sandwings pledge allegiance to her, and forget Thorn? Why would she be this reserved about it? Maybe she wants us to discover her. Maybe it’s not her.” Moon opened her mouth to object, but thought better of it. “Well, it’s not Onyx. Last I heard, she ran off with this random Sandwing in the stronghold. She wouldn’t have the treasure to hire assassins, anyway.” “We should check Jerboa II anyway,” Qibli said, reverting back to the Jerboa II theory. “Just to make sure.” Moon sighed. “Okay, Qib. Let’s go.” Qibli called up a map of the school in his head, and chose the fastest route out. He walked briskly, with Moon on his tail. Suddenly he stopped. “Qib?” he demanded. Moon blushed. “My pet name for you. It’s what I’ve been calling you in my head all the time you’re not here.” Qibli couldn’t think how to respond to that, so he put a wing around her and kept walking. The gorgeous sun cast bloody beams into the cave entrances, and when Qibli and Moon leapt free of the stone confines of the school, he saw that the sky was layered in colours like ancient sediment. Closest to the wine-red sun was vermilion, then pink, purple and deep indigo. He hovered for a moment to watch the beautiful sky. Moon tugged his tail gently. She soared off to the west, toward the Sandwing coast, where Jerboa II lived. They flew over the mountains for a while, and when the rock claws mangling the sky subsided to sandy hills and finally dunes, Moon said quietly, “I’m sorry about your mother, Qib.” “Don’t be,” Qibli barked out a short, harsh laugh. “She was a miserable, awful dragon. She practically sold me to Thorn.” “If your mother hadn’t let you leave with Thorn, you wouldn’t know her, or Sunny, or maybe even me. You’d have stayed a beaten dragon until you left her, and then what would you have become? An assassin? A merchant who cheats his customers? You be glad that didn’t happen. I see a future for us, Qibli. A future where our friends are happy, we’re happy, our family is happy. And our dragonets. Dragonets. If you’ll continue to dwell on your terrible, horrible, gut-wrenching past, you’ll never be able to enjoy the present and look forward to the future. I’ve looked at life from all perspectives of time. I know what I’m talking about.” Qibli put on a half-hearted ‘I don’t want to hear it’ face, but his efforts seemed wasted. Moon edged closer and brushed his wing with hers. A sort of ‘sorry you had to hear that, but now things will be better.’ The setting sun splintered rays off the cresting peaks of the waves. They rolled higher than dragons… Spring tide. Two of the moons were new and dark. “Moon,” Qibli said wearily. “Do you think you can make it all night? I’ve been flying all day, but if you think you can make it, I’ll keep going.” “Qibli,” Moon said in her commanding voice. “You go down there right now and sleep. I’ll be right behind you.” Qibli couldn’t argue. He dove to the welcoming warm sands, curled into a ball, and slept. He couldn’t deny that he needed the rest, but images of Glory and Deathbringer, slashed up and dying, infiltrated his dreams. Thorn crouched under Smolder, who was fending off talons from multiple dragons at once. Moon’s face appeared twice, despite the fact that she had no business being in his dreams. He woke feeling less exhausted, but the soul-weighting terror of Thorn being assassinated had not lifted. His mind flashed back to the rainforest, where Glory and her bodyguard would be too dopey from sleep deprivation to defend themselves. He had no right to sleep while two of his favorite queens could not. He opened his eyes to see darkness, dotted with stars. Wait… that wasn’t right. He could feel the sun’s heat on his tail and wings, but all he could see was night. Then the night shifted, pulling back from his face. Moon. She had her wings tented over him. “Moon,” he said softly. “Wake up.” Moon didn’t wake, but rather grabbed onto his leg and held on. She twitched and muttered. Qibli knew that face. Her pre-prophecy face. Qibli propped Moon upright, and commanded, “Speak.” Moon’s jaw unhinged, and her layered voice of prophecy spilled from her mouth. “The one with wings of sandy hue Will steal your queen from over you Her power waxes with each new day She fights lest she should fade away You will find this ancient one In the oldest lands of baking sun A legend, a shadow of the myth A legacy, for she is the fifth You, young sandling, shall stop her plan Her plan to empower the sandy-cyan With her as queen, we are in danger, Her power can bring nothing stranger…” Moon coughed the last few words and slumped against him. “Qibli?” she whispered hoarsely. “I’m here,” he assured her. Her gaze cleared. She pushed off of the loose sandy hill they’d slept on, her black wings like a crow’s. QIbli swooped after her. “Did I have a prophecy?” Moon asked. “I think I did, but I can’t remember.” Qibli repeated Moon’s prophecy as best as he could. “So, first line is probably about Jerboa II. But the oldest lands of baking sun? That’s the desert… Somehow it feels like it doesn’t imply modern time. Hey, can an animus send dragons back in time?” Moon frowned. “Never asked, but probably. There would be ripples, if we change anything about the past.” They flew in silence until Qibli saw the palm-shaded hut of Jerboa II. He spread his wings nervously, and dove from the air to land on the pebbly sand. A different dragon than the ancient Sandwing they seeked emerged from the hut. A green dragon, in fact. Green like emeralds under water. “Turtle!” Qibli and Moon yelled together. Turtle glanced at them nervously. “Hi…” Qibli grinned and clapped the shy Seawing on the tail with his own. Turtle backed away from the contact. “How’d you get here?” Moon asked, a bit apprehensively. Turtle threw up his wings. “I don’t… know…” he shook his head dazedly. “I mean…” Another dragon exited the hut. This was a tall, graceful Sandwing. Her eyes captivated Qibli, so much so that he felt compelled to walk towards her. He shook it off, forcing himself to notice other details about the sandy dragon. Her scales swirled in a pattern of tan dots, three of them, repeating over and over. Her tail narrowed elegantly, and she had no tail barb “Now, now, Turtle, can’t you remember why you’re here? Honestly, it’s not that difficult, you stupid little Seawing.” The Sandwing spoke smoothly, fluidly. She tutted disapprovingly, and flicked Turtle on the ear. “Why don’t you tell our guests why you’ve come?” “I’ve come to lecture Jerboa about proper animus magic usage,” Turtle blurted. His shoulders slumped, as though he was relieved that he’d said his piece. He started to edge away, but Jerboa II skewered him with her gaze. Jerboa II hissed. “I thought I’d cured you of your lies. Tell the truth, now, dear.” Turtle rotated his head. The movement was owl-like, and eerie. Qibli shivered. Turtle flicked his tongue between his teeth and spoke. “I’m ssssick and tired of my mother and her councsssil of moronssss lording over my power!” His voice was hissy, and snakey. Decidedly creepy. “I’ve come to Jerboa to learn the wayssss of true power. Leave, pleasssse.” He turned around and stuck up his plump nose. “See?” Jerboa II told them. She flicked her tail at them. Arrogantly self-righteous, she stalked back into her hut. Turtle moved to follow her, but Qibli leaped onto his back. “All right, fish nose,” he growled. “Something’s wrong with you, and you’re going to tell me what. Now.” “I don’t know what you mean,” replied Turtle haughtily, his face pressed into the dirt. Qibli carefully rolled him over, and planted his talons on the jade-hued Seawing’s chest. “Spill,” Qibli whispered, his voice deadly serious. He raised his tail behind him slowly, and traced it along Turtle’s side. Qibli hated to do that to his friend, but Turtle couldn’t be harmed anyway. Turtle kept a straight face. Moon stepped up to him and examined the minimal jewelry the green dragon wore. He wore his usual gold armand laced with skyfire, and two earrings in one ear. He also wore a strange cap on one of his horns, with a thin chain dangling down to connect to a band lower on his horn. “It’s that, isn’t it? That’s what she’s enchanted.” The little Nightwing walked behind Turtle, and tugged on the bronze cap. Turtle hissed but did not struggle. Moon pulled off the cap. Turtle went limp, collapsing under Qibli. “Moon…” he whispered. “Qibli…” Qibli released him. Turtle crawled away, and started at his talons ashamedly. “I’m sorry… I… I’m sorry… I didn’t know she was an animus, she just enchanted me to obey her. She needs my power, somehow.” “Maybe she won’t risk her soul!” Moon nudged Qibli excitedly. “Turtle,” Qibli nudged his friend. “You need to go. You, and your power, aren’t safe with this menace here.” Turtle nodded vehemently. “I’ll make something to take me home.” Huh. Turtle must have really wanted to leave to agree to use his animus magic. Turtle reached up and fiddled with one of his earrings, the one shaped like a silver pear. “I enchant this earring to transport me to Jade Mountain as soon as I give the word,” he announced. “And, I also enchant this earring to give Qibli the power to transport himself and any other dragons he chooses anywhere and anytime in the world.” Qibli stuttered. “Thanks!” Turtle winked. “Don’t mention it.” He looked down at the silver tear in his talons. “Take me home!” The Seawing flashed out of existence. Moon pulled him around the back of the hut. “He said anytime. This is our ticket back!” Qibli tapped a talon on her lips. “Why? Why would he say anytime?” “Who cares?” Moon poked him in the chest. “We need to stop Jerboa II!” She clamped a wing around him. “Take us back!” Qibli frowned but obeyed the imperious dark dragon. “Take us back to around two thousand years ago! Jerboa II’s time!” Immediately, a vortex appeared in the sand in front of them. It glowed gold, silver, and ebony. Together, Qibli and Moon dove into the swirling cyclone of sands. They appeared in a dusty, pathetic settlement. The Sandwings there were small, scrappy, and they had lines of sail fins all over their backs. Qibli arched his neck, craning to see over the bustling crowd. He saw a dragon that vaguely looked like Jerboa II. He moved to follow the tall dragon they sought, but Moon stood frozen in place. “What’s wrong with these Sandwings?” Her voice quivered. “Their thoughts are terrifying… like if all these dragons had the minds of dragonets…” Qibli pulled her along firmly. “I don’t know… but Jerboa II is getting away.” He slithered through the crowd. Jerboa II looked like a normal Sandwing, but the rest of them were primal, unsophisticated. Qibli pushed through the masses of odd Sandwings. Many of them stopped and pawed at his wings, which, compared to theirs, were huge. He tugged himself free, and dragged Moon through to Jerboa II. The Sandwing stared haughtily at them from down her elegant snout. This was when Qibli noticed the crucial difference. This Sandwing had swirled of tiny red lines, all over her scales. Jerboa II had trios of tan dots. “You’re not Jerboa II,” he blurted. “What do you mean?” Her eyes blinked. Unlike normal Sandwing eyes, hers had the tiniest slits for pupils, and the rest was a sandy red-tinged yellow. “Of course I am. The second Jerboa in the royal line of the Northern Sandwings, if you must. Or the Hillwings.” Moon tugged on Qibli’s wing. “She’s really the second,” she told him. “I can hear her thoughts. She’s the second, but there were supposed to be five. So the Jerboa we’re looking for is the fifth! I get it now! We went to the wrong time!” Qibli turned back to the arch, shining Sandwing. “Sorry, miss. We’re actually looking for your great-granddaughter. I don’t think she’s hatched yet-” “I beg to differ,” interrupted Jerboa. “I’m one of the oldest Sandwings of the Hill Kingdom. My grandaughter laid her egg nearly a year ago, and it should hatch any time now. You’re welcome to stay and watch, if you like. But first I’ve got a few questions.” She turned to Moon. “You, starry-wings, you said you’re a mind reader?” Moon nodded. “If it’s a problem I can-” “Oh, it’s no problem. I really don’t mind. Sandwing, if you are a Sandwing, why do you look so weird?” Qibli glanced down at his scales. “What’s weird?” “Your… barb. Only the Southern Sandwings have those, and your eyes, and your sail fin are all different than what the Hillwings have. Is that something from the future, or what?” Jerboa seemed curious, tactful, reserved, and polite all at the same time. Qibli thought for a moment. “Yes, I suppose… In the future, there is one tribe that lives in the desert- Sandwings. They look like me.” Jerboa sat back on her haunches, her wings draped across the sand. “Yes. I see. I wish I could have seen these Sandwings of the future. Do they build well?” “Yes. We have cities, and all our architecture revolves around our oases.” Jerboa snorted. “I should hope so. These Southern Sandwings are hopeless. But in the Hill kingdom, we have soaring palaces; even the peasants don’t live in anything less than a classy, elegant building.” She rose and turned north. Qibli and Moon followed her, and when Jerboa leapt aloft, the duo could barely keep up. She twitched one ray in her wing and rose twelve clawlengths. Truly, the flight skills of this dragon were incredible. Jerboa looked back and took pity on them. “I did not realize dragons lose their flight abilities in the future. Great moons, I hope you never have to race any of my Skywing friends. You’d die.” She slowed down sufficiently for them to follow her to a spirally, spiry assortment of adobe huts stacked one over the other. “Behold,” Jerboa announced. “The home of the Jerboas!” She swept inside. Qibli carefully tucked his tail in, as was the Sandwing custom when entering a home as a guest. Moon ducked her head, and they both entered. A Sandwing like Jerboa poked her head from around a corner. “Mother!” she gasped. “I thought you’d stopped bringing home strange dragons!” Another, smaller one dropped from a hole in the ceiling. “Greetings, Grandmother- Oh, hello, new ones. I’m Jerboa the fourth, or Jerboa of the fantasy. Who are you?” These dragons certainly were polite. In modern Sandwing aristocracy, the correct way to welcome guests was to say you had minor, if any, intention of murdering them. “I’m Qibli, and my g- uh, friend is Moon.” Qibli rotated and stared at each Sandwing in turn. The youngest Jerboa edged closer to him and prodded his tail. “Are you a hybrid? Cause I’ve always wanted to study one, I hear they're fascinating-” “No, I’m not a hybrid,” retorted Qibli. “I’m a Sandwing… from the future.” Jerboa of the fantasy tilted her head sideways. “How’d you manage that?” Moon raised her head proudly. “We have a friend, he’s an animus.” Jerboa IIII gasped, and sidled backward, looking guilty. “Um, never mind. Why are you here?” “We need to see your daughter.” Qibli thought the young Hillwing's eyes were unnerving, with dark purple fading to red and then orange-yellow near the pupil. Jerboa the fourth frowned. “She should hatch today, if my calculations are correct. You’re okay to watch. She’s this way.” She leapt up through the hole in the ceiling. Qibli and Moon followed, and slithered through the low rooms until they reached a pleasantly warm room lined with sand. Three eggs nestled together in one corner. Jerboa the fourth hunched in the other corner, murmuring at her eggs. Qibli and Moon curled on the sandy floor, Moon’s cool wing over his back. After what felt like hours of watching Jerboa IIII watching her eggs not move, the largest one splintered. A small, tan head poked free of the net-like shards of eggshell. She slithered over the edge, and flicked her wings out. Wet splatters showered over the spectating dragons. The little female dragonet glanced down at her talons, and grinned at them evilly. Blindingly fast, the dragonet whipped her tail into the side of the next largest egg. A spidery crack shot through the eggshell, and the little dragon inside whined as the temperature of its scales regulated with the outside heat. Jerboa five stabbed her claws through the brittle membrane and demolished her little sibling. She did all this before her mother could finish a scream. She lunged for the smallest egg, but Qibli was faster. He grabbed the baby Sandwing and restrained her forcibly, but the little Jerboa was slippery, literally, and quick. Jerboa of the fantasy yelled frantically for her mother and grandmother, but the elder Sandwings were slow to crawl through the narrow tunnels. The littlest Jerboa stopped suddenly, and went still in Qibli’s talons. Moon touched the dragonet’s head and muttered, “She’s an animus…” Jerboa five squeaked and snarled, pointing to Qibli’s tail barb. Qibli felt his barb move of its own accord, and drift toward the undamaged third egg. “No!” he yelled. “Stop it!” Moon tackled his tail, holding down his deadly tail barb. She yelped, and he saw a line of blood oozing from a puncture wound on her neck. She swooned and collapsed. In his haste to check on Moon, he neglected his tail. It slashed through the egg and poisoned the unhatched dragonet inside. Qibli went still. “Oh no,” he said. His wings dropped suddenly. “It’s dead, isn’t it?” Jerboa of the fantasy was crying too hard to noticed the unconsolable Sandwing and the unconscious Nightwing in the same room as her. Qibli crawled to her side. “I’m so sorry… Please…” Jerboa the fourth shook him off. Seeing his exit cue, Qibli bundled Moon on his back. As he carried Moon from the hatching room, he heard Jerboa four cry, “Jerboa of the brutality. It is your name, and it suits you.” The woes of the heartbroken mother weighed upon Qibli. He wished he could stay and help, but the venom coursing through Moon’s body wasn’t going to cure itself. Outside in the hallway, he noticed a trapdoor in the ceiling. He nudged it experimentally with his snout. It fell aside, and he could see the azure sky glimmering invitingly. He pushed Moon through the trapdoor, careful to avoid snagging her wings in the corners. He leaped through himself, swooping back to grab Moon in one swift movement. Qibli soared higher and higher, in order to spot a stand of brightsting cactus that could counteract his venom. As he flew, he tried to ignore the pain steadily flowing through his entire frame. There- a semicircle of tall, many-armed cacti hunched in the valley between two dunes. Qibli ducked under a swarm of bats that had risen as the night had fallen, and dropped into the valley. He gently laid Moon on the sand. A cactus arm was a difficult item to procure, but Qibli managed to break one without sustaining too many thorns to his palms. He wrung the cactus liquid over Moon’s neck and watched as the scales slowly began to knit back together. Qibli didn’t sleep. He just sat down and watched, his eyes adjusting to the dark. Moon however, slept like a rock. With her black scales shining in the starlight, Moon looked just like a dragon-hewn shape of obsidian. He curled up and picked blood from out of his scales, and tried to remember a time when he wasn’t facing a prophecy or a catastrophe to stop. It took a while. The sun finally rose over the crest of the easternmost dune. The light reflected over something embedded in a sandy slope near the resting duo. Qibli climbed over to the object and dug it out curiously. The object was a small diamond, crystal white and shimmering with hidden colours. It was palm sized, and shaped like a chunk of ice. Moon stirred. Qibli glanced down at the jewel in his talons, and carefully tucked it in his pouch. He’d come up with a plan for that particular thing later. The young Nightwing raised her head groggily. “Qibli?” “Yup?” the Sandwing called, sliding down the dune on which he’d found the diamond. “Did you fix my neck?” Qibli nodded. He bowed his head in apology to the ugly scar marring Moon’s shadowy scales. “We have to go to when Jerboa five lived on her own. You fit for time travel?” She nodded. Qibli arched his neck and shouted at the sands. “Take us to when Jerboa the fifth lived on her own.” A swirling typhoon materialized in the dune. This time it was a strange, dark green-blue that was rich and pure. Moon leaped into the portal, and Qibli jumped after her. Qibli and Moon found themselves in the southern half of the Sand Kingdom, near the Icewing boundary.The hut where Jerboa five lived appeared in front of them, but in this time it was adorned with what looked like… dragon skin. Blue dragon skin. Blue like the portal, and with light blue patches all over it. Seawing skin. Qibli retched, and just barely avoided vomiting in the dirt. Moon saw the blue skin covering the doorway of the hut, and gasped. She jumped back and pressed her talons to her eyes as though she wanted to tear the image from her head. Jerboa of the brutality slithered around the curtain. “I thought I’d told you wretched- Oh, it’s not Desolate? Good. I hate that Sandwing. Well, whoever you are, introduce yourselves.” Qibli grimaced. “I’m Qibli… if you have a really good memory-” “Oh, hush,” she ordered. “I know you. I never thanked you for killing my sister. I did very much appreciate it.” “I’m Moon,” muttered Moon slowly, stumbling slightly as though traumatized. Jerboa nodded politely. “Welcome.” she kneeled into a bow, spreading her wings regally. “May we come in?” ventured Qibli. “We need to talk.” “Yes, of course.” Jerboa pushed aside the skin curtain. Moon walked inside, careful not to touch the blue Seawing hide. The hut was an odd hut, Qibli decided as he entered. For one thing, the hut walls started nearly at Qibli’s elbow, and the rest of the structure was dug out from the packed sand. Tunnels led off to other alcoves, and Qibli could see light from a few of them. Jerboa breathed a straight jet of curiously light fire, and laid down on the heated sands. She made an odd noise with her mouth, like a sparrow’s call. A scavenger scurried out of a side room. The sudden appearance startled Qibli, and he leapt up with his back arched like a cat’s. The scavenger bowed to Moon and Qibli, and sat at Jerboa’s side. “Oh, it’s fascinating,” Moon breathed. “What do you call him?” “He’s Birdie,” Jerboa answered dismissively. “I named him that because of that odd bird he usually has with him. Qibli looked closer and saw a tiny yellow speck. A little bird, zooming around the scavenger’s head. This scavenger was odd, too. He had light hair, white or a colour very like it. His eyes were a burning, fiery red, and his skin was pale. “Cool,” Moon said, enthusiastic. “One of my queen’s friends has a scavenger,” Qibli chimed in. “He calls her Flower.” “Hmmm.” Jerboa made an odd purr that sounded like wrorgle-bUuUuUrg. The pitch on the last half vibrated. The scavenger made a dragon-smile shape with his mouth. “I can’t let him outside for long or he turns bright red and his skin flakes off. It’s gross.” Qibli decided to get the conversation back on track. “Umm, as interesting as your pale scavenger is, we didn’t come for that. Uh, maybe you could tell us about the… Seawing skin on your front door?” Jerboa’s expression turned stony and guarded. “Uh, sorry-” Qibli interrupted hurriedly. The ancient Sandwing regained her composure. “The Seawing that hide belonged to was my husband. His name was Cyan, and that precisely was his colour. He was a fidgety Seawing… always worried. Very hesitant to use his animus power. Great guy. Our daughter looks just like him.” “Daughter?” Moon stuttered, standing up. “I’ve seen her. Row of tail barbs on her tail, short snout? Yellow, tan, green-blue, and brown?” “Yes, Moon. How, exactly, did you see Crest? I know she’s never mentioned any Nightwings.” “A vision. I had it last night. She’s got the most adorable face… her eyes are huge…” “Correct. Now, I understand that the skin may give you the wrong impression, maybe that I killed him, but nothing could be further from reality. He disappeared one day, and this skin showed up the next. I can’t get rid of it. It reappears every time I burn it, or bury it. I just can’t get rid of it. I fear that a Seawing animus may have resented me from stealing their prince from them, so they enchanted this hide to come after me. I keep it in remembrance of him, and that I can’t do anything better with it.” Qibli bowed his head. “I’m sorry about Cyan… wait, you said he was a prince?” Jerboa the fifth nodded. “Yes. Seventh prince of the tribe. He was never really wanted, so he left. Later, I heard that some disaster killed off the queen’s husband and all the rest of her children. The queen was sworn never to have more dragonets. It was the end of that branch in the royal line.” “I bet it was her,” Qibli thought aloud. “She enchanted it. There was always magic in royal Seawing blood… it’s like with Arctic, Foeslayer, and Queen Diamond. The mother was angry, so she enchanted something to torment the unlucky dragon on the receiving end of her wrath.” “Well,” interjected Moon. “When two animus dragons have eggs, it cancels out all magic in the offspring. Your descendants by Cyan will have no power whatsoever. The Seawing queen- Pearl, is it?- should have no reason to harm your daughter. Well, except for revenge. Sorry.” Jerboa looked unsettled. “I never thought about it that way. It makes sense, in a creepy, kind of disturbing way.” Qibli had an idea. “If you ever need to contact us, put a note somewhere. Say, put it under a boulder next to your hut. We can get to it in the future.” Qibli stood, and Moon rose up to wait near his shoulder, a cultural respect in all tribes. It was common sense, really. In order to not get clawed for disrespect, you stood at your superior’s shoulder and waited quietly. “It’s been great, Jerboa the fifth. Having met you, I can say that you are officially not as bad as I thought.” Qibli bowed to the Hillwing. Somehow, his wings went the right way, and his tail curled just right. It felt good to bow so perfectly. I need to remember how to do this for Thorn, Qibli thought. Because my skills in the bowing department seriously need work. Moon led the way from the hut, this time brushing the skin out of her way with barely a shudder. “Wait, Qibli,” Jerboa called. He turned to see Jerboa holding out her scavenger. “Can you take him with you? He really likes learning new things, and I think he likes you.” “I don’t know,” Qibli replied, tilting his head at the scavenger. “I can only transport dragons.” “But you can carry things, yes? You have that pouch.” “I suppose.” Qibli held out his talons for the scavenger. “I swear I won’t eat him.” Jerboa slipped the scavenger into his claws. Despite the pale hair, as Qibli had seen in elderly scavengers, this one looked young. Odd. This would need further study. The scavenger cooed, and scampered up Qibli’s arm. He sat in the curve of his neck, holding on with a familiarity that made Qibli suspect Jerboa carried her pet in the same fashion. Qibli left. Moon held aside the curtain for him. She bobbed her head at his new pet. “Cool,” she remarked. “She gave him to you?” Qibli nodded. “Birdie,” he murmured to the scavenger. He’d never had something so small and fragile to take care of, and he liked the feeling of having someone trust him. “Back to our time,” he whispered to the sand. The colors of the portal were an ominous purple and red mix. Qibli dove in, tenting his wings over his scavenger. Moon followed. They appeared with their throats under razor-sharp talons. Moon yelped. Qibli neither struggled nor cooperated. He simply slid the scavenger off of his back and into the curve of his tail, where he could easily protect the small pale thing. “Now you know my side,” hissed Jerboa. The Jerboa of their time, the one with the plot. She lunged forward and back like the ebb and flow of the tide. “Now you know my hisssstory.” Her head rotated, and the hypnotic effect had Qibli nearly tilting his own head in sync. She noticed the scavenger. “And I see you’ve brought my Birdie. Good, how I’ve missed him.” She plucked the scavenger from Qibli’s tail. “NO!” shouted Qibli. He’d just gotten that scavenger- he wasn’t going to lose it so easily. And, also, it would be kind of gross if Jerboa decided to kill it. He surged upright, and, despite the bandages obscuring most of his tail, stabbed Jerboa in the heart with his tail. The Hillwing hissed- in triumph. “Stupid- predictable- all the things I hate most about Sandwings. I made myself immune, idiot. And not only that, I enchanted my heart to poison you when you stabbed me. So, say goodbye to life, and your darling little Moon, and enjoy your last hour on this continent.” This speech was a lovely distraction. Perfect amount of time for Qibli to slip his scavenger from Jerboa’s claws. Only after that did he register Jerboa’s words. He gasped and withdrew his tail. The end was slowly shriveling… soon, the poison would reach his heart, and then no one would protect Thorn, or even Moon. Moon herself had pulled herself up and was hovering. In his toxin-induced delirium, Moon’s wings seemed huge- big enough to fill that half of the blue sky. Her eyes were shining. They shone with fear, love, anger, and… absolute hatred. Her claws were curved swords large enough to sever life itself. She dove at Jerboa, tackling the evil animus. Moon grabbed Jerboa by the throat and squeezed. “You will pay for what you’ve done to his queen… and him, and me, and this ENTIRE CONTINENT!” Jerboa opened her mouth, likely to enchant the Nightwing off of her, but she had no air left. Her head lolled sideways. Qibli stood and staggered sideways. He clutched Birdie to his chest, shielding the scavenger. “Wait-” he gasped. “Moon- it’s not your fight. Get… off… her…” Moon looked over at him. Tears leaked out between her closed eyelids when she blinked. “But Qibli- in an hour you’ll be gone and Thorn will be unprotected and Glory could be dead and the world will be awful! What do you mean, get off her?” Qibli pushed Moon as hard as he could. The Nightwing barely moved. “Please!” Moon stepped off of Jerboa, but kept her talons on the Sandwing’s neck. Jerboa coughed violently and sucked in huge gulps of air. “-even in the craziest branches, that wasn’t supposed to happen. How did you-? I didn’t know you had such fury in you…” “Explain,” Moon snarled. Her back was arched, her eyes were murderous, and her mouth glowed faintly with brewing dragonfire. “I planned all of this,” croaked Jerboa. He voice sounded squashed. Probably the effect of having a dragon crush her vocal cords. “I paid Cobra and the others… and I enchanted Turtle to give you advanced chronopathy and chronokinesis. I knew you’d take off the enchanted jewelry I put on Turtle, so I made two pieces of it. His other earring. And I knew you’d discover my part in this after I simply didn’t kill Thorn with my magic. And my siblings, that was a delightful added bonus. I needed to get rid of any possible other animi. It seemed perfectly reasonable at the time.” “I knew it!” exclaimed Moon excitedly to Qibli. “I knew your were right about that. She did want us to discover her!” Qibli’s brain seemed coated in camel fat. “W-was that you? In the desert?” Jerboa nodded. “I made a shield. An invisibility shield. It always has some odd mark on it, so I can tell where I put it down. “But why?” rasped Qibli. “Why?” “I needed to… test you. To see if you were capable of properly guarding our new queen. Thorn’s queenly abilities astound me… she’s almost better than Oasis, so no need to judge anything there. What I needed to test was you. You’re incredibly smart, Qibli. But I needed to tell if you could apply yourself properly.” Qibli felt strangely crushed. “I… fell right into your trap, didn’t I?” “Yeah,” Jerboa agreed. “But, to be fair, I did have two thousand years of planning and my animus magic to help.” “Have I passed your test?” Qibli asked, his speech slurred. His eyesight grew dim. He saw Moon shouting at him, and Jerboa touching his tail with a worried expression. His scavenger poked him in the cheek, and the tiny bird landed on the silvery head of the scavenger. The pale pet bowed his head, and he patted Qibli’s leg sadly. Everything went dark. He woke to Jerboa muttering next to him. “- this object to heal Qibli of the poison in his veins, and to erase the damage it inflicted.” She rubbed whatever it was over the blacked areas of his tail. Qibli’s eyesight came back into focus. Jerboa held an odd metal contraption, about the size of one of his claws. Birdie waved his hands and pointed at the metal thing. Jerboa frowned and handed it to the pale scavenger. The pet held it up to his eyes and pointed it toward the sky. It almost looked like he was using a telescope. Qibli tapped the scavenger on the shoulder, gently, and gestured to the metal thing. The scavenger placed the thing in his palm. Qibli held it up to his eye and looked through it. The hole was tiny, he could hardly see through it. But he did, and got an eyeful of stars as a result. He swept the telescope around the sky. He grinned, and gave it back to the scavenger. The pale scavenger smiled back at Qibli and pointed to his shoulder. Qibli scooped up his pet and placed him in the curve between his shoulder and wing. Qibli stood and looked for Moon. She huddled to the side of the Sandwings, her back twitching occasionally. Qibli crept up behind her and tapped her shoulder. Moon exploded in a flurry of wings wrapped all over him. She sobbed uncontrollably. Qibli tried to calm her, but couldn’t. The scavenger patted her horn, which rested right next to him. Moon smiled weakly at the scavenger. She pulled back finally and said, “We should head to the stronghold to look for Thorn. Jerboa says she hasn’t yet reversed the tide of assassins going after her.” Qibli carefully placed his scavenger on the ground. He flew at Jerboa, and hit every inch of her he could reach with his wings. “Never, ever pull a stunt like that again.” He flew aloft, and Moon jumped after him. Qibli’s tail whipped in midair, swishing up and down like a pendulum. Qibli touched the edge of his wing to Moon’s own and yelled, “To the Scorpion Den!” They were suddenly on the podium where Thorn gave most of her speeches. Thorn herself was nowhere to be seen. Smolder, the Sandwing prince, was huddled on stage with his wings tucked in close. Projectiles and claws and tails flew through the air. Smolder saw Qibli and Moon appear and raised his head. Qibli saw another, smaller head beneath his sheltering wings, and another body. Thorn’s. Smolder cried out weakly as a spear caught him upside the back and embedded. That was it. Qibli snapped. He leapt over Smolder and Thorn. His back was arched, his mouth erupted with lethal dragonflame and his spines puffed up. He growled at the attacking dragons, feeling primal and rage-filled. He kept his body close to the ground, his center of gravity low. He snapped at the few stupid dragons who dared to approach him. Not many did, though. When the dragons in the amphitheatre had fled, he turned to Thorn and Smolder. Smolder carefully unfurled his wings to reveal Thorn. Thorn shivered uncontrollably, and a vicious cut below her eye dripped blood into the corner of her mouth. Smolder had various small cuts all across his wings and body, but there were two major issues to be dealt with immediately: the spear in his back, and a jagged tear in his left wing. Moon twisted the spear free, and grabbed a camel-hair rug to press over the wound. Qibli remembered his teleportation gift. It was a crazy idea- but he had to try. Turtle had said he could transport himself and other dragons anywhere. Would that apply if he was summoning a dragon to himself? “Turtle!” he screamed at the ruby sky. The Seawing appeared near the huddled group of dragons. “What?” he cried, a half-eaten fish falling out of his talons. Qibli lashed his tail around Turtle’s ankle and dragged him over to Smolder. “Heal this,” he snarled. Turtle looked confused. “With what?” “Your stone!” Qibli cried, gnashing his teeth impatiently. “Do it!” Turtle fumbled for the grey-flecked stone in his pouch. The Seawing traced it over Smolder’s torn wing, and the membrane seemed to sew back together. “Thanks!” Qibli said hurriedly, and gently shoved the Seawing’s shoulder. “Back to the Seawing Palace!” Turtle disappeared. Thorn staggered up and hugged Qibli. “Thank you so much, Qibli,” she whispered. ‘You have no idea-” “I’m sorry for leaving,” he told her. His eyes stung. Thorn pulled back and helped Smolder up. The Sandwing prince leaned unsteadily on the younger dragon, but Thorn could hold him up. Qibli turned to Moon, checking that none of the Sandwings had hurt her. Moon was completely fine, but she backed away from him as though his ears were on fire. “What’s wrong?” he asked, his brow furrowed. “Um… Nothing?” Qibli cocked an eyebrow. “Fine,” Moon muttered. “Your spines are glowing yellow, your pupils are slits and the scales by your tail barb are sticking up like extra spikes.” Qibli turned in a circle, and tried to examine himself. His spines were indeed haloed in yellow light, and the same light spilled from his mouth when he spoke. Qibli looked back at Moon. This time, she did not flinch away. “We need to explain this to Thorn and Smolder. Will you help?” Moon nodded. “Of course I will. We did all that together, didn’t we?” QIbli patted her wing gratefully. He looked around for Birdie, but the scavenger was gone. “Aw, I think I left him at Jerboa’s place. I’ll go back tomorrow.” Thorn and Smolder stumbled over. Thorn coughed flames, catching Qibli’s attention. “You’d better explain this, frog-chewing, camel-snorting-” “Fine, fine,” agreed Qibli, quickly, to spare himself and Moon from Thorn’s language. Moon sidled up beside him. Qibli told her quietly, “After this, I’m going to the rainforest. Permanently. I’ll be Glory’s guard if she likes. But who knows, maybe the Nightwings have settled down.” Moon put a wing over him in response, and he twined his tail around hers. Qibli turned to Thorn and Smolder. “We should go to your tent,” he suggested. “We’ve got a lot to tell you, including my goodbye.”